


search without sleeping

by transvav



Category: Mianite - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Realm of Mianite - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Realm of Mianite, Warden Jordan, i got infected with a brainrot fic and now i have this, ianite in a cell what will she do, it- listen it's a mess, takes place post-isles but not whatever is actually happening in canon isles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:54:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26888449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transvav/pseuds/transvav
Summary: upon the return of the heroes from isles, ianite is once again trapped in a cell.this time, she is granted some form of company.
Relationships: Jordan Maron & Lady Ianite
Comments: 13
Kudos: 59





	search without sleeping

**Author's Note:**

> haha warden jordan go brrrr if you're curious about what he looks like i uhhh my [have this for you](https://transvav.tumblr.com/post/630992431311208449/the-vibes-good-sirs-the-warden-jordan-vibes)

the cell could be worse, she thinks.

they’d all been complacent in the passage of time, waiting for the world to change, to grow. when the portals had shown themselves, she’d been ecstatic, as well as the new blooms of chorus fruit and flowers. her brothers‒ the one from ruxomar included‒ had been delighted for her, and the three of them, together, had been excited to see what the world would become, with time.

again‒ they’d all been complacent. waiting. willing. in all ways but the direct, they had opened the door for the darkness to seep in like melting water, and now, here she is. she wonders why _her_ , but on the other hand, she knows why her, she always has. thus is balance. she holds both. so finding herself in a cell again does not pain her like it should. it could be much, much worse, after all. at least this go around, the walls are not simple plain stone, cold and unforgivingly ungiving against her, claustrophobic and, quite frankly, rather ugly.

no, this time, the floor is covered in a dim, bioluminescent moss, speckles of blues and greens that remind her of endless stars, of the fountain in the center of her temple, of the mortal’s way to the overworld in the end. it covers most of the stone brick, slick to the touch, but _warm_ , for once. the walls are a cracked stone brick that she has never seen before, closer to the color of endstone than the grey of the cobble she knows is more common, and the ceiling has a few pointed, dripping rocks, sharp to the touch. the water from them creates small pools in the craters of the floor, and in those craters swim a few small, happy little creatures that leave ripples across the surface when they turn over to see her smile. and there are flowers, here, blooming violets and lilacs and lavender and allium, and, graciously, chorus buds‒ the darkness, it seems, cannot _quite_ contain a goddess’ magic like they used to be able to. there’s even an opening in one of the walls, not that she can reach it.

but what intrigues her the most are shining purple crystals that seem to have grown from the moisture and moss, thrumming with soft, intense energy, glowing ever so softly against the terrible, permeating the choking void and darkness otherwise. when her chains strike the rocks, they make beautiful little noises, chimes like bells, and they brighten ever so lightly. the moss reflects in kind, and soon enough, the room is bright again‒ not as much as it could be, with the melted candles in the corner unlit, but still, it’s something.

what hurts the most is not the cell, no. because while the first cell had been cold and dark and horrible and lonely, it had been just that‒ lonely. she had been _alone_ , and it had brought her the smallest comfort knowing the rest of the world was safe while she had suffered alone.

the sound of shambling feet reminds her she does not have that comfort now.

like clockwork, a figure shuffles carefully past the opening in the cave, casting a shadow over her feet for the briefest of moments, a soft shine from the stars on his fingers, the tufts of fur on his long, dragging tail. he pauses, for a moment, a twitch of the ear, and a bright, glowing tear trailing down his cheek, slow and agonizing as it breaks from his jaw and hits the floor near his bare feet. she watches him, heaving the axe in his hands with careful concentration, before he moves again, every part of him tense, alert. waiting.

only when his shadow is gone from the opening does she let out a horrified, shuddering breath, and let her own tears fall. _my boy_ , she thinks, heart aching. _oh, jordan‒ for what they have done to you i cannot apologize enough._

the darkness, when she had demanded answers, had, for once, given them a gracious sort of glee. in the time he and syndicate had been away, the shadows had wormed their way not only into their home, but into the captain’s heart and mind, stronger than ever before. “he is of balance, like you,” they had explained, twisting across the walls, curling in the corners like snakes. “there was always a part of me within him. this is the way it is and always has been, and his loyalty to you is what gave him his place here.

“if he is destined to save you, so be it,” they continued, and moved towards his kneeling, out-of-place form‒ asleep, unaware, still, mentally, in a void. “but i cannot have him interfering‒ bringing him here was a mistake the first time, but _now_ , i have purchase in his heart and soul. he cannot save you if he keeps you here himself, though, can he, lady of balance?”

their laugh had been cold in the face of her horror, and she had sat, and watched‒ blinded for his faith in her, cursed to see the world in sound and vibrations alone‒ changed to some creature of the dark itself, and shackled to her in a way unforeseen. he would not remember. he could not say a word. circles in the maze of the deep dark, around the cell‒ to make sure she could not leave. to make sure no one could come.

goddess to prisoner, her captain to warden.

he doesn’t know her, anymore, like he used to, and she’s worried he’s completely forgotten his purpose here at all. she worries he is completely mindless, now, some empty husk of the boy she’d trusted so much. for years, she’d waited for his return home, the guilt of not doing enough for him growing within her like weeds‒ it had even gone so far as to leave ink-like purple stains of magic spreading across her skin, up her fingertips and hands and wrists. it had frightened the admiral and his family so‒ their version of her had suffered from the same sickness, a manifestation of her deepest grief.

she still feels that guilt‒ was she good enough, in her weak state? did she do enough to properly support him? was his damning faith in her well placed‒ because his fate would never be justified, not to her‒ but had she done _anything_ to deserve the loyalty he’d given her without any question? a bow. she’d given him a _bow_.

and still, he’d followed her through universes. he can’t leave her side, not by design of their captor, but by design of his own instinct, his own choice. he is fated to be hers, so, naturally, even in whatever empty minded state he’s in, he finds comfort in her presence. and he stays, shuffling laps around her cell, because unlike any other of the creatures he’d become, he still has that one tiny semblance of knowledge that this is his calling, and she is his home.

it aches.

she moves her wrist so slightly, rattling the chains to hear them hit the amethyst again‒ it lights up and chimes, and every crystal chimes in response, a melody all on it’s own. it’s one of the few sounds she’s discovered that doesn't upset him to the point of destructive rage. perhaps it’s just the softness of it all. the captain has always enjoyed the quiet, but never dead silence. he hated being alone.

so she lets the crystals sing their own little song, and loses herself in the sound, resting her eyes against the strain of the dim light and relaxing down further into the moss and lavender against the wall, picking at the stems of violets and twisting them between her finger and thumb in a repetitive, grounding motion. without thinking, she hums an old song her alternates all share, from an old prophet that traversed worlds, a simple, repetitive melody that goes along easily with the ringing hum of the amethyst around her.

but then she senses his presence return, and opens her eyes to find him in the doorway again‒ except this time, his gaze is, for once, facing her entirely, empty eyed, teal tears pouring down his cheeks.

out of shock, she stops humming, dropping the violet bloom to the floor as she sits up and stares at him, receiving her clearest view of his change since they’d both been trapped down here‒ the blue-black coloration of his arms and face, dotted with little star-like spots of light, the way his hair fell too easily over the void of his eyes and curled over his shoulders, and the points of his ears tipped with aqua, the sway of his tail behind him, slow and careful.

at her sudden silence, he makes a confused little noise‒ the softest she’s heard from him all this time‒ and sets his axe gently against the stone, his ear twitching at even the small sound that produces. and then he takes a slow step into the little sanctuary, tilting his head, searching for something to listen to. he’s never set foot into the cell before, she thinks, so what had changed.

“...jordan?” she asks without thinking, and flinches back at the sound of her own voice.

but _he_ doesn’t.

instead of the rumbling growl she’s come to expect from unexpected noise, he gives that curious little grunt again, stepping closer to the sound of her voice, nearly tripping over a chorus vine that curls around his ankle in response to her own subconscious hopes. he stumbles over, falling to the floor to his knees, and gives a little huff, childlike and animalistic all in one.

“you don’t _mind_ ,” she whispers. “you know my voice.”

he doesn’t answer with words‒ she never expected him to‒ but he gives that little grunt again, his eyelids falling closed and his tail curling him in a quiet comfort, waiting for something. she smiles to herself, her entire being aching at the sight of him. like this, he looks _normal_ , not quite human, but the pose is familiar, even if she had never seen it from him so directly. he taps around at the ground for a second careful with his claws, before he hits a crystal and shivers, almost delightedly, at the ringing hum it lets out. when it falls silent, he hits it again, ears twitching upwards at the long note with a happy little sigh.

this time, she hums along, that little tune she knows all too well.

and he makes that noise, an almost-purr, visibly relaxing where he sits when she does. he’s so _content_ , so different from the poor creature he’d been forced to become that she can’t help the tears that well in her eyes, can’t help the way her hum turns to her own voice.

“ _pulled from my home inside a cloud,_ ” she starts, shaky and unsure, and when he only purrs stronger, she sits up further. “ _lost to the dark i drift alone. now i’ve returned beyond the shroud, ever to reign upon my throne- here in my crystal kingdom_.”

and on, she sings, each verse soft and careful, a little hesitant that he may change his mind halfway through, but he never does. he sits patiently near the entrance of the cave, his glow dimmed in his calmer mind‒ less aware, less alert. at _peace_ , for the first time, since they’ve both been taken. she takes her time with the final three verses, the crystals dimming as the tune dissipates into the quiet air‒ the axolotls, she’s noticed, have curiously been watching him from their little pool, noticing her bond woven so deeply into his soul.

when she’s finished, he seems to sort of lull back into alertness, blinking slowly and shifting in place‒ not smiling, not quite, but without a doubt, content. it’s the closest they’ve been in what feels like forever. he’s just out of reach for her to be able to even brush against him, though‒ her boy, she thinks. her poor captain.

the moment breaks when one of the sculks out of the door makes it’s little chittering noise. he snaps to life in front of her his head whipping around in an instant, and he is gone in a second, his axe in his hand, tail lashing angrily behind him as he slipped out of the opening. she watches his shadow disappear from the doorway with a sinking sort of feeling she doesn’t know how to describe.

the water drip, drip, drips beside her, and she sighs, curling her arms around herself and smoothing down the shivers that were running over her skin. she relaxes further back into the flowers again and continues to hum very quietly to herself. she does not notice one of the crystals crack, and doesn’t notice the magic that almost bleeds from it‒ doesn’t notice the glowing point near her feet, nor the little sprout that blooms from it.

* * *

every once in a while, she finds, she can draw him in through humming. it’s only when his guard is at its lowest‒ only when the caverns have been mostly silent, only when the darkness doesn’t suffocate her room completely. it follows him almost like a warning, or a heartbeat. she finds it’s the worst when he’s on his edge, pacing much faster in front of her doorway. in those times, she feels weaker, dizzy and exhausted, and it’s an _odd_ feeling.

but when the room is lighter, and she can hear his feet shuffling slow, and tail drag behind him. in those moments, it’s easier to call to him, to tug on that loose bond as hard as she can without making it hurt either of them. usually, he responds by carefully making his way into the room as gently as before, ears perked to pick up her soft hums. she doesn’t always sing‒ can’t always find the words for it, can’t seem to find the song in her throat, so it’s more often mindless melodies to harmonize with the stones around her. it works, though, and he comes and kneels and relaxes, his glow brightening with the room around him the more he visits. he lines up. he attunes himself to her once again. not like he’d ever truly lost his way, though.

when she does sing with words, it is often sea shanties, the ones she’d learned from their old friends, her old followers. songs of lost ships at sea, crewmates captured by the navy, love of the ocean itself, and, of course, songs of the captain.

not that he ever recognizes it was about him.

there’s no meaning of time, here, and though she is a goddess, she slips too often into sleep and dreams. she doesn’t need it, but what else is there for her to do, when there is nothing but waiting. the darkness comes before her, sometimes, and regales her with tales of her captain’s bravery in the land he’d been trapped in. just outside, her warden shambles past, and the darkness takes pause, smiling to themself as the shadow crosses the threshold.

“he’s a loyal one,” they say, a smile evident in their voice even when she cannot see it. “i tried very hard to sway him, you know, but the only thing he cared for, in the end, was your safety. the look in his eyes when i revealed the truth to him, though? it’s something i’ll remember for eons, little goddess, as long as the worlds exist. how broken he was, how defeated, how easy it became to take root in him when he truly thought he was doing the best for _you_.”

she tries not to think about that, when he comes through the door the next time.

instead she sits up and remembers with some sort of fury one of the songs she’d learned at a sailor’s funeral‒ one of the songs she knew _he_ knew, at heart and at soul. it was one of the only shanties he’d been taught before his crew had been torn away from him. it angers her, to imagine him so alone for so long, for it only to be repeated once he’d been comfortable enough with his new family, torn into the void‒ it is that righteous bitterness that fuels her now, that brings the memory of the lyrics to her mind.

“ _oh, i bid farewell to the port and the land, and i paddle away from the brave realm’s white sands, to search for my long ago forgotten friends, to search for the place i hear all sailors end‒_ ”

her words are still soft, calming, but there is a current of energy beneath them that she hasn’t felt in some time. she sees his tail flick by his feet, sees his brow furrow in slight confusion, and she pushes forward with the song, trying to catch the echo of the walls into singing along.

“ _as the souls of the dead fill the space of my mind, i'll search without sleeping 'till peace i can find. i fear not the weather,_ ” and she nearly chokes over the next lyric, “ _i fear not the sea, i remember the fallen, do they think of me‒ when their bones in the ocean forever will be._ ”

and as she keeps going, in front of her, he leans forward, his tail unwrapping, thumping softly against the mossy floor to keep time. the lights around them flicker and fade, but not in a way either of them seem to mind‒ if anything, it spurs him to shift from his usual kneeled sit, carefully pushing forwards onto his palms and shuffling and crawling forward with slow hesitance.

and she realizes, near the end, that he’s _humming along_.

_“now that i'm staring down at the darkest abyss, i'm not sure what i want but i don't think it's this. as my comrades call to stand fast and forge on‒ i make sail for the dawn 'till the darkness has gone._ ”

one of the chorus plants curls comfortingly around his ankle, keeping him from going too close, but it’s enough to stop him in his tracks, from going too _far_. for the first time proper, she can feel his gaze lift up to her, and when she meets his eyes, she has to pause, to _breathe_.

there’s light, in those eyes, faint and small, pinpricks of blue that make her smile so wide as they focus on _her_ , like he’s really seeing her, like he’s finally really there, even the littlest bit. her boy, her captain, her _son_ ‒ he takes a slow, shuddering breath, ears twitching. his gaze flickers down to where the little sprout has nearly blossomed, and reaches, ever so carefully for it, with a shaking hand. she thinks she knows what it is, but it isn’t until his fingers brush against it that it properly blooms into small, bell-like flowers, with glowing white petals, pure and soft‒ lily of the valley.

“as the souls of‒ of the dead,” he murmurs, “live for’er in my mind. as i live all the years that they left... me. behind.”

she shudders and pulls herself closer to the edge of the stairs, reaching out shakily. “i’ll stay on the shore,” she whispers, “but still gaze at the sea.”

“i _remember_ ,” he breathes. with his voice torn and low, unused and grovelled to almost nothing, it means so fucking much _more_ than just lyrics, and they both know that. he looks up to her again, the tears from his eyes reflecting the purple of the amethyst around them. “ _i remember the fallen, and they think of me._ ”

he leans forward even further, restrained by some other force‒ and just barely, _just_ barely, her fingertips catch against the skin on his cheek, and he sobs a little brokenly, falling forward only for her to catch his face between her hands, cradling him so gently as she pulled him closer to her chest, rocking her son close as they finished the song together, properly.

“ _for our souls in the ocean together will be. i remember the fallen and they think of me, for our souls in the ocean together will be_.”

* * *

it doesn’t fix every issue, of course.

it is a momentary lapse in whatever the darkness had done to control him that ends far quicker than she would have hoped‒ she barely had time to open her mouth again to greet him properly before the light faded from his eyes and he had slowly, mindlessly, wandered back to the entrance and out of the cavern once more. but the little flower at the foot of the dais reminds her of _hope_ ‒ reminds her that he’s still there.

the times he can properly seem to hear her are few and far between, now. before, when he was relaxed and could listen to her tune, he would, at the very least, come in and sit by the crystals and just be there until the hum and glow died down. those moments are harder to reach. he hesitates in the doorway, now, stopping for only moments for his ear to twitch and his head to turn. she’d like to believe she sees longing in his form before he turns away again. she _knows_ , though, that there’s a difference in the way he walks. a change from the slow, shambled shuffle, to the careful, light footed steps.

he _is_ changing, but the darkness is trying very desperately to tighten it’s hold.

the thing the darkness overlooked, or simply ignored, was the power of that bond that the captain had shared with her. there had never been, and there never would be another bond exactly like theirs. champion, yes, her first and only, but also the one who had raised her from nothing, had found her in the shadows and taken hold of her hand and reminded the world that she was _here_ , and she always had been, and that they had simply forgotten who she was, who she had always been. when they had been separated between worlds, that connection between them had been strained to a point she never would have believed‒ but not broken. _never_ broken. and being together again was reviving it, strengthening it.

so when she does, eventually, get _really_ through to him again, it’s no surprise to her that any hesitation he holds in approaching her is gone once he passes through the threshold of the cavern’s entrance, once he is cast into the light of the gemstones. the axe is softly put at the opening, and his feet are careful, but he is quicker than before, if not still haunted, in some ways‒ eyes empty, shirt torn, bloody from an encounter he will not recount or can not remember. she asks, of course, simple questions. does he know her, does he know _him_ , does he know who he was, what he was, who and what he _is_. and he does, for the most part.

and then she asks about her brothers. and he knows. and she asks about his family‒

and he doesn’t.

“that’s‒ that’s alright,” she says, trying not to let the sudden waver in her voice show as she pets over his hair with gentle fingers, careful not to let the shackle touch him or the chain rattle too loudly. tries not to think about her brothers’ champions, or the two wizards, who had become his brothers and sister in their own right‒ tries not to think about the elation on jeriicho’s face at the sight of syndicate and the captain and their third friend on that familiar beach “that’s quite alright, my boy. do you remember your adventures?”

she can feel him suddenly shift beneath her hand, a tense sort of confusion as he seemed to try to rack his thoughts and memories. he grunts, and shrugs, and she pauses in her movements, tucking a tuft of hair behind one of his ears and meeting his lost gaze, smiling gently at the blue pupils that appear as he seems to blink into a stronger alertness. “do you remember?” she asks again, ever so gently, and he gives a sad little noise.

“ _i gave what i could,_ ” he whispers, and she jolts at the melody, _“and i did what i should. and i still never knew if she knew me as good‒”_

“jordan,” she chokes, feeling her tears well. “jordan, _no_ , shh‒ shh, lovely, i promise you’re fine‒ you did everything just right, my boy.”

he shifts in her arms, burying his face away from the light, humming a little off-key that one tune‒ and she knows every note, even though she _shouldn’t_ , even though it was so entirely private. but it was an apology of his own, because he thought he hadn’t been good enough. he thought he’d done her wrong. she could feel his tears running faster down his cheeks and she rocked him closer, trying to remember the words, hoping something could calm him.

“ _back at home, when i was unknown_ ,” she murmurs, “ _you were all that i had in the world. him and i, me and he. one to one as were we. and my boy, all the_ good _that you hold‒ how i wish you’d been told_.”

he breaks down further, and sobs into her lap with deep shuddering breaths that make her ache, wishing she could just take him home to properly rest, to recover in the end, wishing that she could make this better, wishing that she’d had better advice in how to deal with him. wishing that she could go back in time, to before they’d made that leap. what would a little more time have been, really? what harm would it have done to spend time with her champion‒ a day. an hour. a _minute_.

a minute wouldn’t have been enough in the long run, but she would have been able to say she was _proud_ of him.

she holds him closer and wishes she could change what she’s already done.

* * *

he’s in a mood, and she doesn’t blame him.

someone’s _coming_. it’s not just the fact that she can feel their presence‒ the admiral is among the group, bless him, but it must be the _whole_ group‒ the new mianitee that the captain had come back with included. he and syndicate seem to get on well enough, but the issue comes with that, exactly. they get on _too_ well, and much, much too loudly.

she’d noticed, rather early on, that the sculks around them were much more sensitive than the few she’d come across before she’d been taken, neatly adjusted to ignore the noises she and the captain made. they were attuned, she realized, _specifically_ to the movements of those who were untouched by balance‒ more specifically, those who were untouched by even the _slightest_ bit of darkness. her followers, and her champion, and herself, were safe.

but the others were not‒ and even though she could tell they were hallways away, the sculks outside shuttering and clicking, and sending the captain into a frustrated, hurt state. he sits in the entryway of her cell, the heels of his palms pressed into his eyes as he makes low, pained groans, twisting to sit halfways between the outer walls and the entry. it must have been like hell, to him‒ all of this silence, save for her, and now boys made of storms and earthquakes were carelessly stampeding through the labyrinth towards them, unaware of how _dangerous_ it truly was becoming.

“jordan,” she whispers, heart aching when he grits his teeth and nearly growls. “it’s okay, it’s _okay_ , i promise‒”

there’s a resounding clattering noise that sounds too close for comfort‒ it nearly hurts _her_ ears, too, and she can’t imagine the hell it brings upon him. he curls further into himself, moving his hands from his eyes to the sides of his head to dig his nails deep into his scalp, a horrifying noise rumbling low in his throat. and now she can feel the encroaching waves of shadows her boy brings with him when he gets into this sort of mindset, and the others must too, judging by the sudden sharp silence that falls over the echoing halls and caves. by now, though, it’s too late‒ the light in his eyes is being swallowed by his purpose, the thrum and heartbeat of the warden taking over once again.

“jordan, _jordan_ , come back‒ i promise you’re safe, i’m right here, nothing will happen‒”

he shifts in place, grabbing the handle of his axe and forcing himself to his feet, grinding the metal against the stone and moss. he makes to step back into the shadow of the halls, to escape that last bit of light and fall back into mindlessness‒ the second he does, he will be ruthless. he doesn’t _know_ them, and the moment he strikes them down, he will truly be lost, completely _gone_.

in a last ditch effort, she _pulls_ at her chains, lunging forward towards him, nearly tripping over the stairs as she does‒ the flower at her feet seems to grow faster and further, multiple little blooms suddenly spreading out across the cavern floor. the sound makes him turn on his heel, tail lashing in irritation, but he does, at least, pause when he sees her tears.

“ _there’s a light inside your soul that’s still shining in the cold,_ ” she cries. “ _with the truth‒ the promise in our hearts_.”

his hands shake at the words. the sculks are still rustling and chittering just outside, but beyond that, she knows she is the only noise he hears, anymore. if she strains past the dark he’s cascaded in, she can almost see the light of soulfire torches dancing off of the walls, coming closer. she has his attention, though. it’s enough, if she can just.

“ _don’t forget_ ,” she murmurs. “ _i’m with you in the dark._ ”

jordan _breaks_.

the axe clatters to the ground and she can see the shining bright pupils return, wide and sharp and almost horrified‒ but they’re bright purple instead of the familiar and usual teal. the tears streaming down his face are the same shade of violet, and when they break from his chin and land on the floor, sprouts of purple hyacinth bloom from the ground out of seemingly nowhere, intermingling amongst the lavender and chorus like they’d always meant to be there.

the axe clatters to the ground beside him, and the sculks shutter wildly as the group of heroes nearby hears it and begin to _run_ to where the source of the noise is, but that’s not her priority. her priority is the boy in front of her that staggers forward and collapses into her waiting arms, breaking down into shuddering tears, gripping loosely to the back of her dress and burying his face into her shoulder.

“i want to go home,” he sobs. “my lady, _mom_ , i want to go _home.”_

“we are,” she tells him, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “we’re going home, i promise.”

and until the others reach them, she hums a soft tune to keep him calm.

**Author's Note:**

> my [tumblr](http://transvav.tumblr.com)  
> AAAAAAAAAAAA THANK YOU TOPAZ  
> also! if you're curious about the songs, they are, in order:  
> the crystal kingdom verses from the adventure zone  
> bones in the ocean by the longest johns  
> but a whisper, a fansong i wrote [and sang](https://transvav.tumblr.com/post/629094719485624320/excuse-the-fact-that-its-on-soundcloud-i-wish-it)  
> and don't forget from deltarune
> 
> please leave a comment i am literally dying


End file.
